Daughter of the Demon
by wannabeWriter888
Summary: What if Oliver hadn't taken just Nyssa with him at the end of "Al Sah-Him", season 3 episode 21? What if Laurel had gone to? An idea I had that could've reshaped the later seasons. Clearly, AU. Lauriver endgame but not fully resolved.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I do not own Arrow or DC comics on which these characters are based. I'm simply presenting an alternative way the show could've gone for my own enjoyment and that of others who might read this._

 _ **A/N** : This is a short story, but will be told in six parts because I like the suspense of chapter breaks. Constructive reviews are appreciated. Thank you for reading._

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Daughter of the Demon

The corridors of Nanda Parbat were cold and unwelcoming. Danger whispered in every shadow, the only sound, besides the rustle of clothes and Laurel's noisy steps. Walking beside Nyssa, Laurel cursed herself for becoming a willing hostage of the League. To her credit, she'd expected a fight, not simple acceptance of her terms.

They'd been fighting the League of Assassins in Star City after Laurel convinced the other vigilantes to protect Nyssa from Ra's' men. Oliver had taken Lyla hostage to exchange her for Nyssa, but of course the team hadn't taken the choice lying down. Laurel had been just barely holding her own in the melee when she saw the assassins best Nyssa and haul her off. Laurel had given chase after her friend and managed to surprise the League members. Her arrival had only continued the fight a few more minutes before Oliver arrived and easily bested her. Only he wasn't really Oliver anymore but Al Sah-Him, a fact made abundantly clear when he said:

"Walk away or die. Nyssa is coming with me." And he pressed a blade to Laurel's throat.

A foolish part of her had believed he'd never keep his threat. That a part of him still loved her as fiercely as she'd loved him all those years ago. They weren't the same people they were back then, but she needed to believe a portion of her Ollie lived on.

"Where she goes, I go," Laurel had answered defiantly, finding an option he hadn't considered.

She'd expected him to reject her proposal. All she needed was to buy them a few more minutes. That would be enough time for the team to regroup and rejoin the fight. Then perhaps they'd stand a chance of breaking Nyssa free. Instead Al Sah-Him had bundled her into the waiting helicopter. She didn't regret her actions, didn't regret not fighting back. She'd known the effort to be a waste of energy, but she had to go through with her plot. She'd already lost too many people she cared about – Tommy, Sara, and Roy – she wouldn't lose another. From Starling City they'd flown to an airstrip, onto a plane, and hours later Laurel found herself walking into Nanda Parbat in her vigilante gear sans wig, mask, and nightstick.

Definitely not her best plan.

Her nerves were on fire, though she'd yet to reach the stage where adrenaline pounded through her veins. Nyssa walked toward her fate composed and aloof. Laurel suspected her friend was filled with butterflies but refused to show it. Laurel tried to keep a mask of calm too, to make her friend proud – after all, she'd been training in the League's ways under Nyssa.

Then they were in the audience chamber and Ra's Al Ghul, the Demon's Head, stood before them. Laurel felt her throat dry at the sight of him, but then she looked closer. He wasn't the intimidating man who oozed evil, which she'd been expecting thanks to Felicity's descriptions. All Laurel saw was a man, even if he did lead some of the world's most skilled assassins and all that entailed. Her fears lessened, though she didn't forget the power he wielded or the skill he had as a fighter.

When Ra's ordered Al Sah-Him to kill Nyssa, Laurel surged forward to protect her friend. Two assassins grabbed her and forced her to her knees. "Oliver, don't!" She pleaded, but he raised his bow and aimed an arrow at Nyssa's heart. Nyssa stood proud and unafraid of her demise. The second before Al Sah-Him released the arrow, Ra's stopped him. Al Sah-Him lowered his weapon.

"You've proven your loyalty to me, my heir," Ra's commended Al Sah-Him without feeling, then turned his focus on Laurel. She met his gaze, unflinching. "Tell me, why did you bring Ta-er al-Sahfer's sister?"

"She insisted on accompanying Nyssa," Al Sah-Him answered without a glance in Laurel's direction.

"She did not accompany you before," Ra's raised his eyebrow in interest, conveying something more in that gesture which Laurel didn't understand. It took her a second to realize 'before' meant when Oliver had given himself up to save Thea.

"I didn't tell her of my plans," Al Sah-Him admitted and for a second, Laurel caught a glimmer of Oliver.

"Of course not, because you knew I wouldn't have let you go through with it. I would've told you to fight. Convinced you to find another way," she snapped at him, wanting to see if she could pull more of the real Oliver out. And because she was angry with him for not asking her for help – she could've helped, somehow. Thea was like a sister to her, she would've done anything to help her but she wouldn't have let Oliver toss away his soul so easily.

"Brave for a woman whose life is in my hands," Ra's inspected her as if she were an insect he was about to squash. Laurel refused to let her fear show, pulling back her shoulders with confidence even as the assassins kept her on her knees. "Not brave, stubborn. And I'm willing to fight for what, and _**who**_ , I believe in."

"Now I see where your sister learned her spirit," Ra's let a faint smile touch his lips; "Such a shame to snuff it out."

Then the Demon's Head turned his back to her. He looked to his heir and coldly ordered; "Kill her."


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: Ditto the first chapter._

 _A/N: If the characters seems a bit OC, well, this is an AU for a reason. Thanks for reading._

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Oliver left his bow on his side. He pulled out a knife and stalked towards Laurel. To the side, Nyssa struggled against her guards, pleading; "Father, spare her. Shedding her blood is wrong." And in a reversal of the earlier scene, now Laurel reacted calmly in the face of her death. Perhaps she hoped this was another test, that Ra's would rescind his order again. Well, it was a test, but Ra's would not change his mind.

Oliver tried to keep his face neutral. Tried to wrap his mind around the reality of what needed to be done. To keep his plan intact, Ra's could not doubt him. Yet his plan had never accounted for Laurel – he'd intentionally kept her out to protect her. He'd known she'd tell him to find a way to save Thea, to stay with his sister, and he couldn't deny her anything, otherwise he never would've let her take up Sara's mantle. Protecting her was second nature to him and he always seemed to fail.

This would be the ultimate failure.

Laurel shrugged off her guards and rose to her feet as Oliver reached her. They stood toe-to-toe and he could see the truth in her eyes. She expected no reprisal. She was calm in the face of her execution because she wanted to go out on her terms and with dignity. She wouldn't beg, she wouldn't fight. In her eyes, he saw acceptance, courage and fear, even compassion for him. Oliver leveled his blade, ready to strike. Laurel inhaled, but her eyes never left his.

He hesitated.

Laurel grabbed his hand. She brought the tip of his blade to her chest. She positioned the blade at the correct angle, a single thrust upward and he would pierce her heart. Her hand was over his. Holding him steady. "Do it, Ollie," she ordered. She took his breath away.

"Laurel."

She challenged him to take everything from her.

He answered.

Oliver dropped the knife. Before anyone could register what he'd done, he wrapped one arm around Laurel's waist and yanked her body to him. She crashed into him, hands bracing against his shoulders. His mouth claimed hers with bruising force. He tangled his free hand in her hair. She fought against him for a heartbeat before she returned his kiss with equal passion, nipping at him. He indulged his desires; tasting her, teasing her, getting lost in the feel and warmth of Laurel; his Laurel.


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: (Looks around) I thought I had those papers somewhere . . . nope, still don't own._

 _ **A/N** : Review at your own risk ; )_

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One minute, Al Sah-Him was kissing her senseless, making her forget that he wasn't Oliver and they were in a room full of assassins. The next, he'd pulled away, leaving her breathless and disheveled and reeling while he knelt before Ra's. Laurel lost all composure, raising a hand to her lips, not quite able to believe he'd truly been kissing her like Oliver used to, but she could still taste him, feel him. She almost didn't hear his next words.

"Forgive me, Master, but I cannot kill her. I would as soon cut out my own heart. She is my oldest, dearest friend. My first love. The one who has always seen the best in me. If I kill her, I will destroy the best part of myself."

Laurel was rendered speechless. He couldn't mean, after all the months he'd been pining after Felicity. Pushing her away. Discouraging her from honoring Sara's memory because he didn't believe she could be a vigilante. Yet the way he kissed her.

"She is the one who carried you through your journeys abroad. The one who gave you strength to fight on your darkest moments," Ra's regarded Laurel with renewed interest but she only had eyes for Oliver.

"Yes, she's my strength, my will. I will kill anyone you ask me to, but I cannot kill her any more than I could harm my sister."

"She is your dream?"

"Yes." Now she knew he was only pretending, she'd never been his dream – the constant cheating had shown her that.

Laurel wanted to tell Oliver to stop. Because this was Ra's Al Ghul and no one disobeyed him, no one disappointed him, and lived. What good would challenging him do but get them both killed? Laurel knew the real Oliver was still in there. She was certain of it now and Thea needed that man to come back to her. Thea had already suffered too much, and Laurel had failed to be there for her when it counted, but she'd vowed no more. If Laurel had to die to ensure Oliver lived, so be it.

Laurel bent down and scooped up the knife Al Sah-Him had dropped. Nyssa broke free of her captors and rushed to Laurel before she could bring the blade to her neck. Nyssa snatched the knife out of Laurel's hand and made a quick cut to her left palm. Then she grabbed Laurel's left hand and cut her palm too. Laurel hissed at the sting but held her tongue when Nyssa mashed their bleeding palms together.

"Now we are blood-sisters," Nyssa announced clearly for all to hear but her focus was on her father; "Anyone who wishes to harm her, must go through me first."

No one moved. No one spoke. Laurel was touched at Nyssa's gesture, but she had no idea what that meant for their current predicament.

"Curious. Your sister spoke of you often, with bitterness and longing. Despite your differences, she aspired to be more like you. I thought you inconsequential, merely one thread among many pulling Ta-er al-Sahfer from us," Ra's stalked closer to Laurel and Nyssa. Al Sah-Him remained prostrate, not daring to look back as the Demon's Head continued; "You are hardly the combatant your sister was. Your use of substances to dull your pain shows weakness, though your commitment to sobriety is creditable. Your soft-handed approach to vigilantism is foolish, yet despite your flaws, many draw their strength from you. My own daughter and chosen heir are willing to challenge me over you. Perhaps, my initial assumption needs reanalysis."

Ra's stared her down. Laurel kept her back straight and returned his gaze. She couldn't speak to other's impressions of her, but she wouldn't apologize for who she was. She'd never cared for the pedestal Oliver and others had once set her on, any more than she'd liked the cage he'd put her in. She had her flaws, her scars, but she wasn't ashamed of them. She was proud of who she was and what she stood for, even those she stood with. She wouldn't back down.

"You are certain of your choice, daughter?"

"Yes," Nyssa answered without hesitation.

"Very well, bring me my sword," Ra's held out his hand.


	4. Chapter 4

_The usual disclaimers apply._

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A black-clad, faceless assassin brought forth a sheathed blade. The ornate handle seemed out of place for practical use, but then maybe Ra's preferred to decorate his weapons while dressing simply. The blade he pulled free of the sheath certainly looked deadly.

"Laurel Lance, stand here," he pointed with his sword to the side of a cavern pool.

Nyssa pulled her to the new position when Laurel hesitated. Laurel looked to her friend for an explanation – did Ra's have a specific killing zone or something? – but Nyssa no longer appeared upset. She almost seemed, pleased, at the development. Al Sah-Him rose as the women passed him, but his emotionless mask offered no further insight.

"Remind me, what is your given name?" Ra's asked when Laurel stood alone next to the pool, facing him.

"Dinah," she answered automatically, wondering why it mattered.

"A strong name. Suitable," Ra's nodded, then he pointed his blade at her; "Tonight, Laurel Lance will die, and you will be reborn, Dinah Al Ghul, a daughter of the Demon."

Rebirth? A daughter to Ra's? Laurel wasn't certain if she wanted to laugh or cry. She'd prepared herself to fight if she could, to die if she had to, but this . . . Laurel felt wholly out of her depth. Ra's ordering her to strip off her clothes in the next breath did nothing to improve the situation.

"He doesn't mean completely," Al Sah-Him murmured, stepping closer. After a nod from Ra's, Al Sah-Him helped her disrobe until she only wore her bra and underwear – the more emotional part of her, currently tucked away, was relieved she hadn't been wearing a thong. Standing before a dozen pairs of unfamiliar eyes, Laurel suppressed any self-consciousness at being laid so bare.

Somewhere nearby, League members had begun to play instruments. Two other assassins had ghosted in and rearranged the glowing candles around the pool of water. They'd even added incense. The second Al Sah-Him stepped back, her suit and boots in his arms, a woman began to chant. This was a ceremonial rebirth Laurel realized. While that cleared up her confusion about what was happening, it did nothing to answer why. Her apprehension only grew when Ra's invaded her personal space and pressed his sword tip to the inside of her left elbow.

"Nyssa finds you worthy as a sister. I accept you as a daughter. More than blood, you will be bound to us through the Pit."

Without warning, Ra's drew his blade down her arm to the wrist. He cut his left arm with the same deft stroke. Then he clasped their arms along the bleeding lines. Woozy, she let him help her into the pool; the Pit. The water was warm, comfortably so. "Submerge," Ra's ordered. She obeyed, her head dipped beneath the waterline. Their linked arms were the last to submerge. Then she was surrounded, cocooned in the Pit. A jolt passed through every nerve in her body and Laurel gasped, swallowing water.


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: See a previous chapter._

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Laurel sputtered and coughed as she rose from the Pit. The cuts along her arm and palm had completely healed. Ra's let her go and the music and chanting ceased immediately. A command was barked in Arabic and every League member present bowed to her. Ra's, Nyssa, and Al Sah-Him remained upright, watching her as water streamed down her body.

"Welcome, Dinah Al Ghul, to your new life," Ra's intoned and gestured for her to step out of the Pit.

Laurel complied, shivering a little as the cold air met her wet skin. Then Nyssa was there, bundling Laurel in a white cotton robe. The chill lessened and after a nod from Ra's, she was escorted out of the main chamber. Nyssa and a League member guided Laurel through several stone halls and up one set of narrow stairs. Nyssa pushed Laurel inside a bedroom and told the other assassin to stand guard outside.

"Is this your room?" Laurel asked after spotting a displayed lute, which Nyssa had admitted to playing as a hobby; her only hobby growing up.

"Yes," Nyssa confirmed, then switched the topic; "How are you feeling?"

"Wet, a little cold. Confused. Does your father expect me to become an assassin?"

"Our father," Nyssa corrected; "And I suspect he will leave that decision to Al Sah-Him, but he will expect you to complete the League's training, to be worthy of your new name."

"Why did he do that? With all my flaws, as he put it, why would he want me as a daughter?" her real father hadn't fully forgiven her for keeping Sara's death a secret; her mother and her were still trying to rebuild their relationship. Laurel had made a lot of mistakes as a daughter and friend, especially in the previous year. She was trying to make amends, to do better, but she knew she wasn't daughter-material for the Demon's Head.

"Father saw potential in you, the same potential I saw in you. Potential that Oliver and Sara possessed, to be a warrior to an ideal greater than yourself," Nyssa answered, but Laurel didn't buy the ego-stroking and she communicated as much with a droll stare. "He also saw an opportunity to use you. In binding you to him, he creates a new leash holding Al Sah-Him and me to the League."

That sounded more like the manipulative man who'd forced Oliver to choose between his sister's life and his soul. "There's no escaping the League, is there?" Laurel sank into one of Nyssa's chairs, resigned.

"No, but at least we have each other," Nyssa took the chair opposite Laurel and smiled encouragingly.

"Why did you name me a blood-sister first? Not that I'm not honored, just," Laurel shrugged and indicated the mess that was her. Nyssa had likely heard plenty about Laurel and Sara's complicated sisterhood.

"You showed me how to live beyond all this," Nyssa gestured to the stone walls entombing them. "And when the time came, you chose to stand by my side, knowing full well the risk to yourself. For that alone, you are more dear to me than a friend. A truer sister to me than my own flesh and blood."

GA-BC-GA-BC

"You wish to understand why?" Ra's asked knowingly once he and Oliver had retired to a more private chamber.

"Yes," Oliver admitted stoically, his inner turmoil well-hidden.

"Dinah is a natural leader, though she doesn't see it. With the proper training and encouragement, she will compliment your strengths, securing a better future for the League. She is a much better choice than that strumpet you brought with you before."

"Do you mean Felicity?"

"If that is her name," Ra's waved dismissively; "Had anyone else spoken to me as she did, I would've stuck them down on the spot. She knows not the touch of my wrath only because her death at the time would've cost me your cooperation. Dinah, however, afforded me the respect of my position, yet wasn't afraid to voice her beliefs to me. More importantly, she brings out your greatest strengths."

Oliver worked very hard not to blanche at the under current of violence in the Demon Head's voice when he spoke of Felicity. Oliver worried over what his one-time lover had said to anger the usually composed Ra's, besides her attempt to remake his decision to become the Heir to the Demon. Some of his inner torment must've slipped through as Ra's asked:

"You disagree?"

"Felicity brings out the best in me. Her love made me a better man."

"Best and better, these are ephemeral goals. Constantly shifting in a society with no foundation. Those are the aspirations of the weak, of those who will accomplish nothing in their lifetimes. For men like you and me, they are distractions from our true goals. Strength is what you need. With her, you were in constant conflict with yourself. She needed you to be Oliver Queen while your city needed the Arrow. With Dinah, you will be accepted for both sides of your nature. There will be no choosing, only one man, who will keep his focus and serve the League with all his being. Yes, my new daughter is a much better match for you than even Nyssa."

"Nyssa?" Oliver asked because he thought they'd been talking about Felicity and Laurel.

"Ah, yes. It was my original intention upon Nyssa's capture that you should be wed to her. A union of our two bloodlines. Now that I have made Dinah a member of my house, it is my will that you should marry her."

At Ra's announcement, Oliver felt the last of his façade crumble under an impossible weight. He was to marry Laurel? The idea filled him with hope and dread. Marriage was not part of the plan – and she was most certainly going to kill him when she found out the truth.


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimers still apply._

 _ **A/N** : I'm thinking of continuing this with these alterations into season 4; it will be a short story as well, glossing over the main parts to focus on the relationship development for Laurel and Oliver, if anyone is interested . . . Thanks again for reading!_

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Laurel wore a black dress and a shear gold dupatta with henna tattoos on her hands and feet. The ceremony from an hour before was a blur in her memory. Most if it had been in Arabic, but she'd understood the important parts. The lawyer in her pointed out that a marriage ceremony in another country without the correct paperwork wasn't legally valid. Still, the ring on her finger felt binding to her.

Standing in Al Sah-Him's sterile chambers, the absurdity of the past 36 hours hit her. Laurel gasped, a hand rising to cover her mouth, as she started shaking. Even she couldn't say if she was laughing or crying. Probably both. He was there in an instant, wrapping her in a hug. Her husband, according to the League. Alone in this room, he'd relaxed. More like the Oliver she'd come to know post-Island, less the cold heir he'd been parading around as – except for those moments in the Pit chamber when he'd kissed her ardently and confessed he couldn't kill her.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay," he assured her, rubbing a hand up-and-down her back. Laurel leaned her head against his shoulder, hands fisting the front of his tunic. She wanted to believe him. To find her old friend in the warmth of his tone, but she didn't dare fool herself with false hope.

"Do you want to talk?" he asked.

Laurel lifted her head to look him the eye. He sounded so much like Oliver, she had to see. He wore the same earnest expression Oliver had when he was trying to reach out, to make up for a mistake. Her treacherous heart had her convinced this was no act, so she answered honestly. With the touch of a test.

"That wasn't how I imagined our wedding."

"Oh, and how did you picture it?" he half-smiled in amusement.

Laurel relaxed her hold on his tunic and smoothed the wrinkles with her hands. Her ring glinted in the candlelight – Ra's had allowed them the Western tradition because he understood the symbol was important to them. Laurel looked into her husband's challenging gaze and decided to press forward. "I used to picture us in a church; a big, lavish wedding. You in a tux, me in a ridiculously expensive white dress. Lots of flowers and more guests than either of us really wanted. Dad would walk me down the aisle. He'd give you one last threat about breaking my heart. Our moms would cry. Your dad would be laughing. Sara would be my maid of honor, Thea my bridesmaid, and Tommy your best man."

"Sounds nice," he sounded sincere. More and more he felt like her Oliver. Laurel tested him further, trying to get a rise out of him which Al Sah-Him couldn't fake.

"Now, I'd settle for a simple ceremony, maybe on a beach. A suit and green tie for you, a nice dress for me. Thea would be my maid of honor, Diggle your best man. We'd invite only close friends, Walter, and my parents."

She could see him picturing it. Then the look in his eyes shifted suddenly and with the shift she had more proof the real Oliver survived. He stared at her with such longing, which she'd seen once before, that night in his bedroom when he'd been on trial for being the Hood. That night they'd kissed for the first time in five years. The devastating passion she'd felt for him then came back to her. She suspected his own feelings surprised him as well, because his arms stiffened around her.

Neither one of them moved to part. The air crackled with anticipation between them. Laurel tilted her head back, an invitation. He brushed the dupatta to her shoulders and slipped his fingers into her hair. He brought his mouth to hers and she granted him entry. He kissed her long and hard, as if she was a phantom dream and he was taking time to savor her. Laurel wrapped her arms around his neck. Their bodies meshed together as close as physically possible.

Laurel realized she'd been a fool to push him away after Tommy died. She would never be able to love another as she loved Oliver. The thought should've scared her, but it didn't. He would always be Ollie to her, no matter what mask he wore.

They continued to kiss as Oliver tugged her to the bed. They lay side-by-side sharing kisses as the night progressed. Laurel traced his face, the stubble on his chin, and planted a kiss on his nose. Oliver trailed kisses up her jaw and then paused next to her ear. There he whispered his plan to her. Laurel pulled back to look at him, worry blooming in her chest.

It was a risk, to trust Malcolm with so much – he'd betrayed them, betrayed so many, in the past. Yet he loved Thea, that much they could count on. It would have to be enough, because in Oliver's place, Laurel would've done the same for Thea or Sara. She would do her part of his plan. She trusted him with everything.

Her hands found the buttons on her dress and she began to undo them, kissing Oliver enticingly. He groaned and leaned into her, his hands joining hers to help. Despite the water under the bridge, their attraction to each other had never dimmed.

"Are you sure?" he murmured, nibbling his way down her neck.

"I've imagined our wedding night as well," Laurel answered, then whispered seductively in his ear. He moaned approvingly. She shed her dress and reached for his tunic.

She wanted this. She wanted him. They might die before this was over and she wanted one last night to show him how much she loved him.

Shirtless, Oliver rolled on top of her. "I don't want you to have any regrets," he whispered.

"I'll only regret if I don't." _I love you._

He leaned down and kissed her again.


End file.
